Darkness Within
by Lord Sweater
Summary: A different Harry emerges from the abuse of the Dursley Household. But how different? Follow him as he takes on the adventures of Hogwarts, makes enemies, forms friendships and learns just how much of his destiny is set in stone. (Will encompass first and second year) Dark!Slytherin!Harry, AU
1. A Brave New World

**AN: Hello everybody, Lord Sweater here. Glad to see your reading my story. Now, forewarning to all, this world will be extremely AU. Almost from the beginning. I will be taking the basic plot line from CANON up until a certain point but many things will change. So please don't send my emails saying this is wrong, and that is different and the other thing is not correct. My world, people. My rules. So, with that out of the way, a few clarifications for those that will probably ask. This is going to be a Darker Harry, a slightly more powerful Harry but it won't be an evil Harry. And, from the summary, it was also be a Slytherin Harry. So, please, without furtherado, enjoy this work of fiction.**

**Chapter One: A Brave New World**

The night was peaceful. A cloudless sky broadly boasted an impressive array of hundreds of thousands stars, winking down on the world below. A soft autumn breeze ghosted over the ground with just a hint of the oncoming winter. Not an ominous or uncomfortable breeze, but a pleasant one with just enough chill to make your back tingle and rouse the goosebumps on your arms and legs. In all respects, the night seemed normal. In a small neighborhood in Surrey, families slept peacefully in their beds, blissfully unaware that all their lives had just hung in the balance. That the future and the fate of the world had just rested on the shoulders of a year old boy. Indeed, this night above all others, was far from normal.

As evidence to that fact, a strange figure walked down the dark streets of that same neighborhood in Surrey. To say that the man looked strange was an understatement. His hair was long and white. A large, sweeping and equally white beard adorned his chin. Half-mooned spectacles rested on his nose. But the strangest part of the man were his clothes. He was wearing long robes that went all the way to his feet and billowed around as he walked down the street. On top of that, the colors that were splashed the expanse of the fabric clashed so significantly and horrifyingly that the scheme seemed to have been chosen by a blind man. Yet, despite his odd appearance, the elderly man walked with an air of confidence. Briskly making his way down the street, he finally stopped at an insignificant looking house, a simple two story house, painted all white, not standing out in any way.

Suddenly, a small tabby cat sitting near the driveway caught the old man's attention. "Minerva?" he called out to it, "I did not realize you would be here." The cat looked sharply at the man before quickly transforming into a stern-looking, gray haired woman, a fact that didn't seem to faze or even surprise the man in any way. "How did you know it was me?" She enquired with a look of mild frustration. The man chuckled, "My dear, I've never seen a cat sit so stiffly." The woman, Minerva, frowned, "Where is the boy, Albus?" "Hagrid is bringing him." Minerva nodded, looked off in the distance. "It's a pity we could not be there on time. Now the poor boy will grow up alone." Albus turned to look at the house. "Hopefully not alone. He still has some family." Minerva looked incredulously at the elderly man. "What? These people? They may be family, but I still fear for the boy. I watched them for a few hours before night fell and they seem like the worst sort. I have voiced my disagreement for this decision before. Are you still entrenched in this?" Albus nodded sadly. "I am, Minerva. I have the same worries that you have, but we have little choice. The boy must grow up away from our world. Far from the fame and the attention he is sure to receive. And there is no denying that he will be safest here."

Just then a roaring could be heard from above them. They both looked up in time to see an enormous man soar down out of the darkness riding a flying motorcycle. When the large vehicle came to a rest on the street, he dismounted and made his way towards the other two, holding a small bundle against his chest. "Hagrid," Albus said in greeting, "I'm glad you able to make it here safely." Albus reached out his hands. "Give me the boy, Hagrid." With tears openly streaming down the giant man's face, he nodded and handed the boy over to Albus. Albus then took him up to the front steps and laid him on the stoop, near the front door. "May fate watch over you, my dear boy." Albus said in parting. "For it must know that your life will be far from easy." With that, he disappeared, straight into thin air. With a sigh, one last sad look at the boy and one last glare at the house, Minerva turned on her heel and disappeared as well. Hagrid, still weeping, mounted his motorcycle and soared back into the night sky.

TEN YEARS LATER

The same house that had once held the acute attention of those three strange people those long ten years ago, hadn't changed much in the time that had passed. It was still a bland off-white color. The same box cars were parked in its driveway. The lawn and its gardens were still manicured to perfection. As a whole, the house was still as uninteresting in every way as it was the day it had been built. The people that owned the house were as normal as they come. The husband and wife had boring jobs with mediocre pay. Their son had average grades from a local, run-of-the-mill school. In fact, the only abnormal thing about them was their size, each of them easily weighing over 250 pounds. However this, too (however unfortunate it is) was becoming the norm for the families in Surrey. However, all this said, there was one resident in this house that was far from normal.

On the upper floor of the house, inside the smallest bedroom, sat a boy. He was about 5' 2" and had raven black hair that ran a little ways past his shoulders that he normally kept in a loose ponytail. He had an athletic build, which was a jarring surprise to any who saw him, considering the obesity of those he lived with, with his slowly developing muscles already being tuned into shape. Being eleven, the boy did not have many muscles to speak of, still it was obvious that he took care of his body and exercised frequently. But probably the most striking feature on the boy was his eyes. A massive contrast to his dark hair and tanned skin, they shone from under his lashes and bright and vibrant green. To those who passed by him, while his gaze was not hostile, it was not exactly friendly and it made them shudder to the bone. It was a calculating gaze, as if appraising them for their worth and what usefulness they may serve. The boy's name, was Harry Potter.

Harry had known for a long time that he was different, and he knew that his so called "relatives" knew as well. Why else would they treat him differently? It started out small, making things float, or making them vanish. Then came the bigger things. He learned he could speak to snakes. He once teleported to escape his cousin, Dudley, and his friends. He even caused his uncle to fly backwards and into a wall. His relatives, the Dursley's, called him a freak, and for a while he believed them. He WASN'T normal. And normal was good, right?

But eventually, his opinion began to change. The Dursley's hated him. That was undeniable. But it wasn't out of disgust. It was out of jealousy and most of all, fear. The Dursley's feared him. And, after all, why shouldn't they? These…powers, they made him abnormal, but in a good way. These were things that no one else could do. Didn't this make him above them? A higher step up in the evolution chain? So years ago, Harry had embraced his powers and tried to cultivate them. He quickly realized that accessing his "magic", as he liked to call it, took a careful combination of emotion and willpower. Still, even after that, his progress was slow and barely noticeable. He could feel his "magic" in him, but he couldn't direct it. He could barely control it. It took him years to master simple things such as levitation and "pushing". But the day that he did, he knew that his life was going to change drastically. He had not only proven that these powers existed, but that they could be learned and cultivated. His only limit was his imagination. He was nine years old. On that day, many things changed in the Dursley household. Up until that point, Harry's life had been nothing more than that of a slave. He slept in a cupboard under the stairs. He was forced to do all the chores in the house and was only fed scraps from the table. Now, three years later, Harry had a room of his own. He didn't have to do any of the chores and his relatives seemed quite content to simply forget he existed when they were delivering food to his door. It had taken a bit of…convincing on Harry's part, but they had all adjusted to the change quite nicely. Indeed, Harry hardly came out of his room, except for the odd bathroom break and to attend to the only chore he still did, and willingly, too. Though he did not know why, Harry had an affinity for things that grew and he was drawn to them. Thus, he could often be found tending the gardens and lawn of the Dursley residence on a daily basis. Harry was, as one of his favorite authors' put it, quite content to ignore and be ignored by the rest of the world. Unfortunately, it would seem that fate had other plans.

It was a particularly dreary day in Surrey, not that Harry paid it any heed, in fact he rather liked rainy weather, and Harry was sitting in his room, as he was usually, practicing his "magic". When, all of a sudden, a knock came at the front door. Harry's ears peaked at this in interest. It wasn't often that the Dursley's received visitors as they weren't the most, welcoming people. However, the brief lapse in his concentration was enough for the book he was levitating, to abruptly fall to the floor with a crash. Harry cursed quietly before bringing the book back up to eye level. It wasn't long before he heard his walrus of an uncle lumber down the hallway, a floor below him, and answer the door. After a brief spat of muted conversation, suddenly the whole house shook with his uncle's bellowing. "BOY! GET DOWN HERE! SOMEONE AT THE DOOR FOR YOU!" Harry slightly lifted an eyebrow but this time did not lose concentration and slowly lowered the book to the ground. This was most unusual. Some came to see him? Not many people knew he existed, the Dursleys made sure of that. Nevertheless, he made his way downstairs and to the front door.

The sight that greeted Harry when he reached his destination was, at best, confusing. Standing in the doorway was an elderly man with long white hair and a long flowing beard, wearing a strange bright blue robe with gold trimmings. Harry said nothing, but looked at the man expectantly. "Ah, you must be Harry Potter. You have grown much since last I saw you. Now, Harry, perhaps there is a place where we could go sit down. There is much we have to talk about." Harry nodded silently and led him into the sitting room.

Twenty minutes later, Albus Dumbledore, for this was the same wizard that dropped Harry off at this house ten years before, had finished his well-practiced speech that he gave to muggleborns or, in this case, muggle-raised, and Harry sat across for him with a pondering look on his face. "I know this is hard to swallow, my boy, but I assure you magic is real and…" Harry interrupted him, waving his hand in a dismissive gesture. "I know magic is real, Mr. Dumbledore. I have for years now." "And how is that, Harry?" Albus asked in shock. "I can feel it." Harry responded, looking back at the elderly man in front of him. "I can feel it streaming through me, as if my very blood was cackling with energy. But I have other questions. I can feel the magic, but I can barely direct it. I feel like I have no control. Is it because I'm so young?" Dumbledore smiled down at the young man. "Ah, the answer to that, Harry, is quite simple." As he said this, he withdrew a small, thin stick from the depths of his robes. "This, my boy, is a wand. Most witches and wizards use wands to help focus their magic." Then, with a light twirl of his fingers, a butterfly sprouted from the top of his wand and started to fly about the room.

Putting his wand away, Dumbledore turned his attention back to the young man sitting in front of him. "Harry," Dumbledore began, "you said that you could BARELY direct your magic. Does this mean that you have developed some kind of control over it?" Harry nodded before stretching out his hand. After a few long moments, the candle sitting near the center of the coffee table slowly lifted into the air. Dumbledore's eyes widened in surprise. "That, my dear boy, is wandless magic. And it's no wonder you are having problems. Most do not even attempt to begin it till their sixth or seventh year at Hogwarts." Lowering the candle back to the table top, Harry looked back at Dumbledore. "Hogwarts? That is that magical school that you spoke about earlier? The one you're the headmaster of?" Dumbledore nodded. "Then, I accept your invitation to attend. Like you said, it should help me learn about magic and about this world that I never even knew about." Dumbledore gave him a bright smile before, handing him a slip of paper. "I'm glad to hear that, my dear boy. Here is a list of things that you will need: from various school supplies to robes. If you like, I will return in a few days and take you to Diagon Alley, a wizarding mall, so to speak, and I can help you buy them."

Giving the list a brief glance, Harry responded without looking up. "If it's all the same to you, Mr. Dumbledore, I'd prefer to go on my own. I only request that you tell me where I can find this 'Diagon Alley' ". Dumbledore's eyes narrowed in concern. "Are you sure Harry? You are new to this world and my advice could prove invaluable." "Of course, I realize that, sir. But still, this is something I feel I need to do myself." Dumbledore nodded slowly. "Of course, my boy, of course. Whatever makes you most comfortable. You can find the alley behind a pub called The Leaky Cauldron on the corner of Westminster St. and Brockhurst Ave. in London. Just ask Tom, he's the bartender, and he'll tell you how to get in." Harry nodded his understanding. "And what of money? I have none to speak of, and I assume that all these supplies will cost pence or two, not to mention tuition to this school."

Dumbledore gave him his famous grandfatherly smile. "No worries there, my boy." He said, "We magicals have our own currency: gold pieces we call Galleons. If you visit the wizarding bank, Gringotts, in Diagon Alley, I think you'll find your parents didn't leave you penniless." With that, Dumbledore began to rise. "Well, if that is all, Harry, I have other appointments today and I must be off. I look forward to seeing you come the beginning of the school year." Harry stayed him with a hand. "Actually, Mr. Dumbledore, I have one last question." Albus retook his seat and nodded for Harry to continue. "When you first saw me," Harry began somewhat hesitantly, "you said I had grown. Did you know me before, I came here? Did you know my parents? My relatives told me they died in a car crash, but now, after everything you just told me, I feel like there might be more to the story." Dumbledore looked down at the boy in front of him with eyes filled with sorrow. "You're right, my boy. I did know your parents. And no, they did not die in a car accident. They were murdered. They were killed by an evil wizard who, at the time, went by the name Lord Voldemort. He invaded your home in the dead of the night. Killed both your parents and then tried to kill you." Dumbledore stopped here and looked down at the table. "I didn't want to tell you this, but I suppose you'll figure it out anyway when you go to Diagon later. You're somewhat of a stigma in the wizarding world, Harry. You are famous. On that night that your parents died, Voldemort cast a curse at you that no one has ever survived. No one that is, until you. You survived, with not a mark on your skin except for that scar on your forehead. In fact, not only did you survive, when aurors, our version of police, arrived at the scene. Voldemort was gone. Vanquished, some say. All that was left of him was his robes and pile of ash. He has not been seen since. People hailed you. Applauded you. They named you The-boy-who-lived. That is why I hid you away in this corner of the world. So you could grow up with some semblance to a normal childhood away from all the fame. I thought it was best."

Harry nodded, deep in thought. "So it was you who decided that I grow up with the Dursleys?" Dumbledore nodded. "Thank you, sir. That is all I need to know. Now, as you said, you have a busy day ahead of you." The headmaster, slightly shocked at the dismissal, nodded and left, wondering what the boy's last statement could have meant.

Harry stood in his room, watching the headmaster depart from his window and pondered all that he had heard. He did not know if he could trust the old man just yet. It was him, after all, that abandoned him to this hell hole. But he knew that he couldn't pass judgment on that alone. Still, one thing was for certain. He wanted to enter this new world free from all influence, especially if he was as important and famous as the headmaster had said. He needed to form his own opinions, and that would start with Diagon Alley.

**AN: Hello again. Thank you all for reading and actually getting through the whole chapter. Congrats, you get a cookie. All joking aside, please review, whether with praise or criticism. I appreciate both and, hey, if your idea is good enough, it might just find its way into the story. Until next time folks.**

**Lord Sweater, Out.**


	2. On Alleys, Wands and Goblins

**AN: Alright people, here you go, just as you ordered. I think the updates will be coming at around this interval. One update per week, but I am busy man and I have a life outside of this so no promises. Also, as you can see below, I have responded to your reviews. This is how it will be from now on. If you leave a review with questions, I will try to answer them at the beginning of each update. When it gets to the point when there are too many reviews to logically answer(hopefully it will), I will simply pick the best ones. So, without furtherado, here is chapter two. Please sit back, and enjoy.**

**Emily: Oh my god, so many good points. Ok, how to explain this. As for Harry acting older/stiffer then a normal eleven year old, I am trying to walk a very fine line. He is definitely mature for his age, yet I think you are right in that I went a little over board. Still, the point is made. I'll see what I can do to clarify it in later chapters. And yes, there are similarities between Harry and young Tom Riddle, that was on purpose, but eventually those similarities will end. As for why Dumbledore went personally, I like to think that he feels a certain measure of responsibility towards Harry and, yes, in a way is singling him out (after all he did visit Riddle personally as well).**

**Le Diablo Blanc2: Thank you. This is the Harry I always thought would be better than the CANON version. And as for the Slytherins, a taste in this chapter, and more in the next.**

**ViolatedMonkey: Don't worry, my friend. I'm thinking the same thing. I don't know about Alchemy, considering I know almost nothing about it, but some of your suggestions are already in play, and more on top of those.**

**Cloudstrike: Yes and No. Kinda-sorta, but at the same time not at all. Just keep reading. For christ's sake, it's only the first chapter and you're all assuming Harry will be just like Tom!**

**Man of Constant Sorrow: Thank you. My only worry is that Harry will come off as unbelievably intelligent for a boy of his age. I want him more mature, and generally more intelligent, just not ridiculously so. And don't worry, both of those people are going to be in his circle, however there will be one from CANON that will not.**

Chapter 2: On Alleys, Wands, and Goblins

A few days and much pondering (and no little amount of plotting) later, Harry found himself getting out of a taxi near the center of London. He paid the cabbie with a few pounds he had nicked from his uncle and then surveyed his surroundings. The pub didn't look like much: a small rundown building with a creaky sign out front. But then, maybe that was the point. He reached up briefly to pull the beanie he was wearing further down on his head, hoping to hide his scar. He didn't know how much of what the headmaster had told him was true but he didn't want to take any chances. He was hoping to pass the whole day without being noticed. After he made sure his hat was secure, he walked briskly through the front door of the pub. Instantly he knew that his hopes of going unnoticed were all but dashed. Crowding the dingy bar were dozens of people bustling around all wearing robes: different colors, designs and shapes, but robes nonetheless. And Harry, wearing his muggle jeans and T-shirt, was bound to stick out. He immediately made a mental note to visit the wizarding clothing store first.

Slowly making his way around the edges of the room, trying to go unnoticed, bright flashes of green light caught his attention. He turned to look and almost fell on his ass in astonishment. Along the far wall, was a neat row of several tall fireplaces (which was odd in and of itself). But, the sheer number of them aside, people, with a sharp cackle and flash of green flame, were, quite literally, walking out of them. Harry stared at the phenomenon for several long moments, trying to discern if his eyes were deceiving him, until he shrugged it off and turned back towards his destination. When dealing with magic, he supposed, stranger things were possible.

Scanning the crowd, he quickly singled out the man he assumed was Tom the Bartender, a tall scruffy looking, dark-haired man standing behind the bar. Harry waited until it appeared that Tom had a free moment and approached. "Excuse me, Tom?" He hesitantly required, not entirely sure he had found the correct man. His fears, though, turned out to be for naught as the man jovially responded, "That's my name. Don't wear it out." With a grin on his face, he set the glass he was cleaning down and turned his attention to Harry. "Now, what can I get you, young sir? If you don't mind me sayin', you look a bit young for firewhiskey or even butter beer for that matter. Have you lost your parents?" Harry smiled at the cheerful man. "No, I am here by myself. I've never been before I was told you could inform me how to get into Diagon Alley." Tom was shocked. "All on your lonesome? And on your first visit, too? Now, I'm not sayin' that Diagon Alley ain't safe, but ain't you a bit young to be runnin' around all by yourself?" Harry put on his most winning smile and gave a small laugh, "Don't worry, Tom, I'm used to it. I go most places without supervision." Tom chuckled. "Ya know, I really should turn ya away and tell ya to come back with your parents. But then again, you don't seem like a normal kid." With that, Tom led Harry toward the back of The Cauldron, to a blank brick wall. Then, taking his wand in hand, he tapped a series of bricks. For a few seconds nothing happened. Harry was about to ask Tom when the wall started to move. And not the wall as whole, each individual brick came out of its place and rolled either to the side or straight up towards the ceiling until the blank wall and turned into an archway. The site through the archway, however, made the actual transformation look bland. Laid out before him was a long street bustling with activity. Shops of all kinds were lined up on either side. Men, women and children were running all about carrying packages and trunks. People were swooping in from above flying on what looked like brooms. Off to one side was an area where people were literally popping into existence. "Welcome, young sir, to Diagon Alley." Tom said with a sweeping gesture at the alley. "Be careful in there, and take care who you talk to. As a matter of fact, I never caught you name." Harry, too shell-shocked at the moment to be thinking clearly responded, "Harry. Harry Potter". With that he walked into the Alley leaving a very dumbfounded Tom behind.

Harry was in a daze as he walked down the alley, drifting from shop window to shop window. He didn't know how much of this stuff he needed, hell, he didn't even know what half the stuff was. But at the moment, he was content to just observe, browse and relish his first real experience of the wizarding world. He got a few curious glances from passers-by due to his attire but he ignored them. At least he hadn't been recognized yet. He passed shops full of cauldrons, books, writing supplies and broomsticks (he presumed for flying). He passed cafes and offices for a wizarding paper he had never heard of. And it wasn't until he came to a towering white marble structure, with a large sign that labeled it as the wizarding bank Gringotts, did Harry's brain finally wake up from its stupor and begin to function again. This was his first stop. He would need money before he could begin crossing things off his list, after all.

Swiftly climbing the large pyramid of steps in front of him, Harry was soon entering through the large double doors to the bank. He had only taken a few steps inside when, for the third time that day, he was nearly floored in astonishment. Standing behind the counters and administering to the various costumers of the bank were not people, but small, squat, green creatures with long ears and pointed teeth. Their entire bodies seemed wrinkled like the skin of ninety-year-old men. Their fingers were gnarled and twisted, ending in long, sharp, yellow nails. They were, without a doubt, the most horrifying creatures Harry had ever seen. But, seeing as no one else in the bank seemed to have any qualms at their existence, Harry walked timidly towards the nearest free teller. "Excuse me, I'd like to make a withdraw from my account." "Name?" barked the creature, not looking up from the stack of papers he was furiously scribbling on. "Harry Potter." Now that caused the creature to look up. He survey Harry up and down with a raised eyebrow. Well, technically the creature had no eyebrows to speak of, but Harry did see the muscle that would normally house an eyebrow twitch upward slightly. "Indeed?" growled the creature. "I'm surprised you made it here in one piece, Mr. Potter. Your appearance in Diagon Alley is likely to cause a stir." Harry gave a small smile, "Well, the fact that no one has ever seen me before gives me a slight edge. All I have to do is cover this pesky scar." Harry said, gesturing to the beanie. "So far the ruse seems to be working, so if you could keep the fact that I am here quiet, I would be most grateful." The creature smiled a big toothy grin that was more terrifying then comforting. "Have no worries, Mr. Potter, your family was always good to us goblins. You don't have to worry about me givin' you away."

Now it was Harry's turn to raise his eyebrows. '_So they are Goblins'_, Harry thought, '_Interesting. I wonder what other 'mystical creatures' exist in this world._' "Now," continued the Goblin, "How much were you hopin' to withdraw today, Mr. Potter. Anything less than ten thousand Galleons and I can give to you right away. Anything more, and you'll have to take a trip to your vault and withdraw it personally." Harry thought about it. "Could you tell me how much I have in my vault? I've never been here and haven't received any statements before." The goblin nodded. "Could I have your hand, Mr. Potter?" he asked, pulling a knife from somewhere underneath his desk. Harry eyed the knife warily and his hand didn't leave his side. The goblin, seeing his hesitancy, explained. "Blood identification, Mr. Potter. Just a small slice on your palm, a few drops of blood, just to prove you are who you say you are. Can't be givin' out Potter account information to just anybody. The cut will heal almost immediately after." Understanding the reasoning, Harry offered the goblin his hand, and a quick slash later, a few drops fell onto the piece of parchment waiting on the table below. Just as the goblin had said, the cut healed remarkably fast. Magical knife, Harry presumed. Then, Harry's attention was drawn to the now bloodied piece of paper. Instead of pooling together, as drops of any liquid are prone to do, the drops started to swirl, shimmer and elongate, until they formed words that stretched across the parchment. "Hmmm. Yes." The Goblin said, picking up the paper, "Hadrian James Potter, son of James Potter and Lily Potter nee Evans. Everything seems to be in order." Harry's eyes narrowed when the goblin read his name. '_Since when am I Hadrian?' _he thought. But he didn't have time to comment, because the goblin soon had disposed of the piece of parchment and had pulled out another, seemingly from thin-air, and was handing it to him. "Here you are Mr. Potter. Unfortunately, since you are not of age as of yet, you do not have access to your family vault. I can't even let you see a list of its contents. However, this is statement regarding the Trust Vault that your parents set up for you to get you through school." Harry nodded absently, looking down at the rather short list on the paper he was holding.

_TRUST VAULT OF HADRIAN JAMES POTTER_

_-750,000 G._

_-Misc. Family Heirlooms_

His eyes widened slightly. He had no idea of 750K was a lot of galleons, but it sure seemed like it. He was also curious at what family heirlooms his parents had bothered to put in his trust vault, but decided to leave them for now. He really didn't have time today to go browsing through old family artifacts. Handing the slip back to the goblin, He reached into his pocket to retrieve his school supplies list. "Mr…" Harry paused as he realized he had no idea what to call the goblin. "Griphook, Mr. Potter." The goblin offered helpfully, taking back the vault statement. Harry smiled in thanks. "Mr. Griphook, I have a list here for school supplies, and I don't know much on how currency in this world works. Could you take a look and see if ten thousand galleons will be enough to cover it all? I would rather not have to visit my vault today." Griphook nodded and eyed the list carefully. After a moments, He handed the list back to the boy. "Most indefinitely, Mr. Potter." He said with a grin. "In fact, I'd wager that only three thousand would suffice." Harry nodded and pocketed the supplies list. That affirmed that 750K was indeed a substantial amount of galleons. '_If that's how much I have in my trust vault, I wonder how rich I really am._' He thought to himself."Still, I'll withdraw ten thousand, just to be sure. Something else might catch my eye." Harry responded with a slight smile. "Indeed, Mr. Potter. Indeed." Griphook said, reaching under the counter. "Here you are." He produced a small bag with what Harry assumed to be the Gringotts seal on the side. Harry eyed the bag dubiously. As far as he knew, Galleons were gold coins. That bag should be a lot bigger. Griphook rasped out a sharp laugh at Harry's face. "Magic, remember Mr. Potter? Don't worry. I'm not trying to swindle you. They are all in there." Harry still looked doubtful but he took the bag anyway. "For your sake, they had better be." He said, with a pointed look at the goblin. Griphook felt a small shudder go down his spine, but ignored it as he watched the young boy walk away. He was just a kid. Nothing to fear from him, right?

Walking out of the bank, Harry took a glance at his list. The first thing on it was the uniform specifications. Relieved to finally get out of his conspicuous clothing, Harry glanced up and down the street. Quickly, his eyes found a large sign that read _Madam Malkin's Robes for all Occasions, _and he made his way toward it. The door dinged as he walked through it, and in no time at all, a short, stocky woman came bustling out of an adjoining room. "Hello deary. What can … Oh, would you look at those clothes! You can't go walking around Diagon wearing that!" The large woman gave a small huff before smiling again. "But I forget myself, deary. Hogwarts for you as well, I suppose?" Harry nodded mutely, and barely had time to prepare himself before he was whisked off into the room the woman had originally come from. "Right this way. I'm already fitting someone but if you'll just have a seat, I'll get to you in just a moment." Harry thanked her and sat in one of the numerous waiting chairs lining the wall. Standing up on a slightly elevated platform, in front of several mirrors, was a boy with bright blonde hair about his age. Apparently, Harry chose a seat too close to the stage because the other boy felt the need try and strike up a conversation. "Hello." The boy called from where he was being fitted by the large woman, who Harry now assumed was Madam Malkin. "This is your first year at Hogwarts, too? My name is Malfoy. Draco Malfoy." The smug look on the boy's face and the way he said his name, as if it demanded respect, instantly made Harry want to grimace in dislike. But Harry managed to nod politely before turning his attention somewhere more pleasant, the wall, for instance. The smile on Draco's face began to fade. "What? You don't have a name?" Without looking back at the annoyance, Harry simply said, "Hadrian." He had come to quite like the name. Especially since 'Harry' Held such a stigma with it. "Hadrian…?" Came a questioning response from the boy accompanied with a smirk. This time, Harry turned and looked at Draco, giving him the full force of his green-eyed gaze. Draco repressed a shudder. "Just Hadrian to you." Harry responded. "My last name is none of your business." He had no intention of telling this pompous prick, of all people, who he was.

Draco flushed slightly in anger, but he shrugged it off and tried a different tactic. "So what house do you think you'll be in? I'm sure I'm going to be in Slytherin." Harry simply gave him a blank, questioning look, having no idea what he was talking about. Draco's eyes turned critical. "You know, the four houses of Hogwarts? Do you know anything about our world? You're not a mudblood are you?" By the way Madam Malkin ceased her work briefly and gasped in surprise, Harry surmised that 'Mudblood' was a derogatory term, so he quickly ran it through in his mind.

_Mudblood_

_-Someone with dirty or tainted blood/ancestry _

_-Could mean non-magical parent(s)_

_-would explain why being one would increase ingnorance of magical world. _

_-Blood Purity might be strong issue in Magical world. Perhaps Status, Nobility, or Wealth?_

Harry analyzed his brief outline, then decided to take a guess. He shrugged slightly at Draco. "No. My parents were magical, but they died when I was young. I was raised my aunt and uncle. They aren't magical." "You were raised by _muggles_?!" Draco exclaimed quickly, the disgust clear in his voice. "That's disgusting! I've never heard of such a thing…" He paused as if to collect his thoughts but whatever prejudiced tirade he was about to let loose, was cut short by Madam Malkin telling him she was finished. With one last glance at Harry, Draco stormed out of the shop. Harry then stood calmly and walked toward the stage. As Madam Malkin started to work on his measurements, she softly murmured to him, "Don't mind him, Deary. Some wizards have just got it in their heads that they are better than all the others. The Malfoys are the worst sort." Harry gave a small reassuring smile, "Don't worry Madam, I've dealt with his kind before." Indeed, Malfoy did remind Harry strongly of his Uncle Vernon: full of blind prejudice and narcissistic obsession. The rest of the measuring, they spent in silence. When she was done, Madam told Harry that the robes would be delivered within the week. So he paid for them and left.

The rest of Harry's time shopping passed uneventfully. He spent an extended amount of time in the bookstore, Flourish and Blotts, browsing many of their volumes. He understood very little, but assumed that was what Hogwarts was for, so mostly just stuck to the books on his list for school. The only exception had been on the subject of Herbology. He had been overjoyed when he read that an entire class of Hogwarts was dedicated to the growth of magical plants, and his imagination started to run wild with the possibilities that magical plants offered. So, aside from the required school text, he also picked up _Plants from A to Z: An Encyclopedia of Magical Plants _by Matilda Connerspike, and an interesting volume titled _Create your Own!: A beginners Guide to Mag. Plant Crossbreeding_ by the same author. Eventually, Harry managed to drag himself out of the bookstore and back out onto the street. Looking down at his list, he realized that the only thing left on his list was his wand. He would debate getting a pet at a later date. He grinned in anticipation of finally getting his wand and started down the street toward where he had seen Ollivander's Wand Shop earlier. However, as he was passing by a shop called the Magical Menagerie, he felt something that made him stop. It was as if something was…pulling him toward the shop. Slowly following the light tug on his will, he entered the shop, which turned out to be a magical pet store. '_Looks like I might be getting a pet after all._' Harry thought, as he followed the pull toward the avian section. Soon, Harry found himself surrounded by the hoots of hundreds of owls of all different colors. Immediately, one owl, a snowy white one, caught his eye and he made a move towards it, but the tug pulled him past and further down the aisle. Then, at the end of the aisle stood a large cage, and inside stood a bird that took Harry's breath away. It was deep, pitch black, with sharp talons, a vicious beak and blood red, squinty eyes. It was a raven, and the pull was leading him straight towards it. Harry approached it and, for a reason unknown to him, started to reach his small hand between the bars of its cage. But the vicious looking bird did not strike but almost seemed to lean forward, welcoming Harry's touch. As soon as they made contact, though, a bright flash of light caused Harry to jerk his hand away. He looked at it in confusion when, suddenly, he heard a deep, masculine and almost respectful voice, _**'My Lord'**__. _Harry whirled around, furious with himself for being snuck up on, but found nobody. The Raven gave a short caw, that Harry somehow knew was a laugh. _**'I am behind you, my Lord.'**_Came the voice again, that Harry suddenly realized was in his head, and not spoken out loud. Slowly Harry turned around and looked at the raven who now seemed to have an amused expression with his head cocked to one side. "You're in my head." Harry said bluntly. The raven nodded. "Why are you in my head?" Harry asked. _**'Well, I am your familiar, my Lord. How else would I communicate with you?'**_The raven said with what Harry would swear was a smirk. How the raven could smirk with a beak, Harry didn't know, but he was almost positive it was. "My Familiar?" Harry said, starting to put two and two together. _**'Yes, my Lord.' **_"So, that flash of light was…" _**'A familiar bond, my Lord.' **_"And what does a familiar do, exactly?" Harry asked, trying to wrap his head around what was happening. He could remember wizards having familiars from the old stories, but he couldn't remember any details. The raven gave another short caw-chuckle. _**'I see you are new to this world, my Lord. Very well, I shall instruct you. In short, a Familiar is a wizard's companion. I can also help to extend your magical reserves a bit. I will fight, spy or whatever you need at your command. I am at your service.' **_Harry thought on it for a bit and saw no down side. "I don't suppose Familiars are free?" Harry asked hopefully. The Raven chuckled. _**'Alas, no my Lord. You will have to purchase me.' **_Harry sighed before picking up the cage. "Well it was worth a shot, wasn't it? What shall I call you, anyway?" _**'Kegen, my Lord. My name is Kegen A'san.'**_ Harry nodded, and made his way to the front desk.

Thirty minutes later, found Harry finally making his way out of the Magical Menagerie. It had taken quite a bit of time to convince the desk clerk that, not only was Kegen not going to kill him as soon as Harry let him out of the cage, but that he also had money to pay for him. The clerk had absolutely refused to believe that Kegen was his familiar, claiming that no one his age ever felt a 'familiar pull' as he put it, until finally Harry was forced to open the cage, take Kegen out and show that the raven wasn't hostile. Harry smiled as he thought back. It was probably the fact that the raven would be hostile toward the clerk on his command that had clinched the deal. Kegen had done a number on his hands. Harry breathed a sigh of relief. Finally, he was on his way to get his wand.

A bell tolled when Harry walked through the door to Ollivander's Wand Shop, but no one came to greet him. Harry waited for a few minutes and was about to call out to the back of the shop when a voice came from behind him, causing him to jump. "Well, well, well. Finally Harry Potter finds his way into my store." Twirling around, Harry came face to face with a elderly man with long grey hair. "How did you know who I was?" Harry asked in a low voice, his hand creeping up to his beanie to make sure it was still there. The man gave a short laugh. "Calm yourself, Mr. Potter. I mean you no harm. I won't go spreading it around that you're here either. And to answer your question, I can recognize you even without your scare. It seems only yesterday when your parents came through those doors, looking for their own first wands. You look just like them, you know." The man said with a small smile. Harry relaxed a little, but was still wary of the man. "Are you Mr. Ollivander?" He asked. "Indeed, Mr. Potter." Ollivander replied with a smile. "But you can drop the mister. Just Ollivander is fine. Now, let us see if we can find you a wand. Or, more like help the wand find you. For it is the wand that chooses the wizard you know." Harry was slightly mystified at that last statement but followed Ollivander to the counter figuring he would soon find out. Ollivander started rifling through rows upon rows upon shelves of long thin boxes, all while calling out questions. "What is your primary hand?" "Do you like to write in cursive, or print?" "Do you often work with your hands?" Even down to "What is your favorite color?" Harry answered all of these, raising an eyebrow somewhat at the last one, and waited for Ollivander to return. He was not long waiting, for Ollivander soon came up to the counter with several boxes stacked in his arms. "Ah, here we go, try this one. 9 ½", oak, dragon heartstring core, nice and firm. Very good for transfiguration. Give it a wave." Harry took the wand and, feeling slightly ridiculous, started to twirl it. He wasn't even going for a full second before the wand was snatched from his hand. "No, no. That's no good. Here we go. 10", Elm, unicorn hair core, a little swishy. Useful for Charms and rune-making…" and on and on they went until they had used up all the wands that Ollivander had initially brought over and he was forced to go get more.

After an hour or so, Harry started to worry that he would never find a wand, but Ollivander just looked more and more excited. "A tricky customer, eh? I haven't had one this good in years. People are just too predictable now-in-days…" he said with a grin as he rummaged through his shelves for the umpteenth time. As more time and useless wands passed, Harry started to get hot in the shop. Ollivander must have had the heat up, and it was July! Taking off his beanie and setting it aside, he freed his ponytail and started to air off his head. He was sweating all over. Just then Ollivander came back with another box. He looked confident about this one. "Alright. This is the one. 11", Holly, Phoenix feather core, nice and supple." Harry took it and gave it a wave just like the others. Ollivander seemed to wait longer than the others, but still, nothing happened. Taking the wand back and returning it to its case, he mumbled something that sounded to Harry something like "…Dumbledore seemed sure…". Putting aside the case, Ollivander gave Harry a long penetrating look. Then flitting his eyes from Harry to the raven, Kegen, he spoke. "That is your familiar, is it not, Mr. Potter?" Harry nodded in response. Ollivander left, going deep into his shop muttering, "I wonder, I wonder…" When he returned, he was holding a case that looked older than the rest. Indeed, Ollivander soon affirmed that saying, "This Mr. Potter, is one the oldest wands in my shop and if it is your wand, well, I must say you have expensive taste." With that, he opened the case and withdrew a wand that was so black it was almost purple. From the tip toward the middle, the wand was straight, but after it certain point it started to corkscrew slightly. At the end, the wood curled in toward itself and nestled firmly in the loop was deep red gem. "11 ¼", Wenge wood, Thestral hair core with a red spinel for magical focus, pliable. Very good for battle magic and … necromancy. " He said as he gingerly, almost fearfully handed the wand to Harry. As soon has Harry's fingers touched the wand, it felt warm in his hands and his magic thrummed in response. Harry gave it a wave and immediately red sparks shot out of the tip and the room got visibly darker. Ollivander's eyes flitted around nervously but Harry was too engrossed by his new wand to really notice. Ollivander chuckled nervously, "Well Harry," he said, "You certainly are filled with surprises. But then, when have you ever been normal." Harry gave a small smile to that. _**'It is a magnificent wand, my Lord.'**_ Kegen said, throwing in his two cents. Harry was about to put the wand in his pocket when Ollivander stopped him and handed him a gadget made primarily of leather straps. "It's a wrist holster, Harry." He explained, seeing the boy's confusion. Then he showed him how to put it on and insert his wand. "Now, just give your wrist a flick and the wand will spring free." Harry did so, but wasn't quick enough in his grab and the wand clattered to the floor. Ollivander chuckled as the slightly embarrassed boy bent over to pick it up. "Don't worry, Mr. Potter. I will come with practice." He assured. Harry thanked him and paid for the items, his wand apparently costing significantly more than most due to its age and the rarity of the ingredients.

The last thing on his list crossed off, Harry grabbed the trunk he had bought filled with all his supplies, and Kegen's cage and started toward the exit. However he hadn't gone twenty, when he heard someone shout beside him. "Bloody Hell! It's Harry Potter!" Harry and half of the alley froze. Harry grabbed his head and then, with a groan, realized he had left his beanie in Ollivander's shop. Deciding quickly, Harry put on a burst of speed and walked briskly toward the exit, which wasn't hard as people parted the way for him. Finally escaping the alley, Harry was half embarrassed, half furious at the people who were openly ogling his forehead. Luckily, whether out of fear or respect, nobody approached him, and Harry was able to leave The Leaky Cauldron without losing his temper or his sanity. Quickly calling a taxi, he loaded his things into it, ignoring the cabbies curious looks at Kegen and went home.

**AN: And another one down and up! We'll get through this book in no time. Ok, real quick. I'm holding a contest. The first one to guess what Kegen A'san(Harry's familiar) means and in what language it's in, will get to insert an OC character of their choice into the story. And before you go running off to google translate, I changed the spelling slightly, so beware. So, if you feel like you know it(or you really know how to work google translate) send your guess in in a review with a brief outline of the OC character you want me to add(name, age, house, personality, etc.) It can even be a character of another book or movie if you want to. Just know if you go that route, I won't be making this story a crossover, I'll just integrate and adapt that character to the Harry Potter Universe. Anyway, thank you for reading. Please review and I should have the next chapter up soon. **

**Lord Sweater, Out**


	3. A very long Train Ride

_**AN: My People! Fear not, for Lord Sweater has returned! And He brings you yet another chapter of goodness! Rejoice and be glad! …Not that you guys probably missed me at all but…a guy can hope, right? Anyway, here you go, chapter three, but first some reviews…**_

_**Emily: Thank you, I'm glad you're enjoying it. As for the whole 'My Lord' business, well I addressed it in this chapter and I think that despite the greeting that Kegen uses, you will completely approve of the two's relationship. **_

_**ShadowDude333: Thank you, my thoughts were the same. Now, I'm not going to make Hadrian Godlike, but he will be more powerful and smarter than in CANON, cause personally, the original Harry just kinda got lucky. **_

_**GuidingHand: Heh…you may have a lot of waiting to do, but I understand your reasoning and thank you for checking me out.**_

_**Man of Constant Sorrow: Ooh. I like him. I really do. Hmmmm…Yes, I believe I can implement that OC nicely. Just a taste in this chapter then…**_

_**ViolatedMonkey: Hmmm. Ok. Your Luna ideas hold merit and I already planned on implementing some version of them later, I'll give your ideas some thought. As for the Riddick character…I don't know. Hadrian's inclination will be towards the dark, so I need characters that will draw him back towards a more grey area, not the other way around. Hadrian is going to be dark enough as it is. Plus, I've never seen any of the Riddick movies so…I can't say that I'd do a good job.**_

_**A quick thank you to all of you that reviewed. I always appreciate your feedback and I welcome any ideas/OCs/criticism/praise that you can give me. Hopefully you won't have to wait for the next chapter as long as you did this one, but I'm a busy man, I got shit to do. Anyway, enough drivel and shameless whoring. Without further-ado, sit back and enjoy this work of fiction.**_

It was late morning the day after his trip to Diagon Alley and Hadrian was sitting in his room thinking. He had gotten home late from his shopping trip but his relatives had long since learned not to question, well, anything Hadrian did. His relatives normally just pretended he didn't exist except for when they were delivering a meal to his door. But the Dursley's were far from Hadrian's mind as he reread the Hogwarts letter that Dumbledore had given him several days before. There were two things that were bothering him. First of all, the parchment specifically said that each student was allowed to bring one pet: either a toad, or a cat or an owl. Raven was not on the list. "Kegen," Hadrian called out, still looking at the sheet in his hands. _**"Yes, my Lord?"**_ He responded from his perch in the corner, where he was busy grooming his feathers. Hadrian's head snapped up irritably. "What is with this 'My Lord' nonsense? I wasn't aware I was royalty." He commented dryly. The raven stopped grooming and looked at Hadrian somewhat incredulously. _**"I am your familiar, my Lord." **_He said, talking slowly, as if to a child. _**"My entire existence is revolves around serving you. It is only natural that I show you some respect." **_Hadrian scowled. "And I suppose that respect doesn't limit you from using a degrading tone of a voice?" Kegen cocked his head the side, then returned to grooming himself and replied innocently. _**"I have no idea what you are talking about, my Lord. I was just trying to help. But as for your original question, the school will have no problem with me accompanying you. That rule does not apply since I am not your pet, I am your familiar. And do stop opening and closing your mouth in that way, my Lord. You look like a fish. The reason I know what your original question was, as it seems you have forgotten, is because I am in your head. Not completely. I have no access to your archives or memories, but I can generally read your surface thoughts."**_

Hadrian scowled again and looked back at the letter, ignoring his impertinent familiar. So taking the raven would not be a problem(though Hadrian was no longer sure that he wanted to), however one more problem remained. At the base of the letter was a small note that had gone unnoticed by Hadrian the first time he read it.

_P.S. Students are reminded that the practice of underage magic outside of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry (or any other prestigious wizarding schools) is strictly prohibited. Any underage persons can and WILL be caught using magic outside of the above areas by means of The Trace and they will face a large fine (to be taken care of by their parents) and the possibility of their wands being broken. _

Hadrian frowned when he read this. He had no idea what The Trace was, but he assumed that if he used his wand, at all, he had a very good chance of being caught. Throwing the letter away in frustration, he laid down on his bed to think. He still had roughly two weeks till the start of school and he had hoped to get a head start on learning and practicing magic. He assumed that he would be at a disadvantage since he was raised by muggles and hadn't even seen much less done any magic. Well, with a wand anyway. So he had hoped to minimize that disadvantage by practicing. But now, it seems that he would have no practice at all. He growled and rolled over to face the Charms book that he had cracked open earlier. Running his eyes over the first couple of paragraphs again, his eyes narrowed as he began to form a plan. As far as he could tell, most spells had two parts: the first being the incantation, what the wizard says, and the second being the wand pattern, how the caster moved the wand while saying the incantation. Was it possible for Hadrian to practice the incantation and the pattern separately?

Hadrian studied the first spell in the book, a levitation charm, making sure to pay attention to all of the accent marks and the phonetic spelling. "Wingardium Leviosa." He incanted slowly. And he read it over and over again for several minutes till he was satisfied he was reading it correctly, though he couldn't be sure due to a lack of someone to instruct him. Next, with a flick of his wrist, he drew his wand, having gotten the hang of the action the night before, and he began to slowly imitate the pattern from the diagram in the book. A small rotation, sending the tip of the wand in a slight circle was first and ended with a sharp flick of the wrist in the upward direction. Then, he read, if the charm was cast correctly, the object that was being levitated would follow the tip of the wand until either the caster released the spell or lost concentration. Hadrian repeated the pattern over and over just like the incantation until he was satisfied. He was still disappointed that he couldn't actually practice the full spell but decided that this was as good as he was going to get, and moved on to the next spell in the book. He studied for the rest of the day, switching to Transfiguration after a while and Defense a little after that.

The next month of Hadrian's life passed in a similar way, with Hadrian spending his time switching between practicing his "wandless magic" to his actual magic to reading about Wizarding History, since the text he picked up for his actual history class was utterly useless, only talking about goblin rebellions and such. In the few books he bought, he found many references to "Albus Dumbledore", who Hadrian recognized from the picture as the man who came to visit him, and was surprised to find that he was quite a famous and powerful wizard. He had an Order of Merlin: 1st Class (a very high honor in Wizarding society, Hadrian read), was the current Chief Warlock (the person who presided over the Wizengamot, the Wizarding Parliament of sorts) and had been, in fact, the one to defeat the last Dark Lord to try and conquer Britain, a man called Grindelwald. Hadrian raised his eyebrows at the long list of achievements. Why was such a powerful person the headmaster of a school? The most esteemed school in all of Europe(if any of these books were to be believed) but still… Hadrian made a mental note to ask him.

In his readings, Hadrian also found multiple references to himself. There was lots of praise for how he defeated the Dark Lord. A few of the more intelligent writers hypothesized on HOW Hadrian had managed to defeat him. And there was plenty of gossipers all theorizing where he had gone after that October night. Some said that Dumbledore had him. Others said that he had been taken to be trained by Merlin himself. Still others said he was off in Africa slaying Nundus with his bare hands. Hadrian scoffed at the last one especially. He had no idea what a nundu was but they sounded huge and horrifying. Hadrian shook his head as he tossed the history book away to pick up something more useful. If only they knew how he really spent his childhood. He also kept reading about his classes. The one class that especially confused him was the Defense Against Dark Arts class, or just DADA for short. He didn't understand how certain magic could be classified as Dark Arts. Wasn't magic just a tool? Like a gun or a knife, and all that mattered was HOW someone used it? He didn't understand how any magic could be unconditionally evil. But then, maybe that was what the class was for.

And so a month passed with very little else happening. So September 1st came around and Hadrian found himself standing at King's Crossing. He had arrived in a taxi; not wanting to go through the bother of getting the Dursley's to drive him. In fact, he hadn't bothered to even tell them he was leaving. He had just packed up and walked out the front door. He was sure they would figure it out eventually. He was reading his acceptance letter for the umpteenth time and growling in frustration. "What the hell does Platform 9 and three quarters mean?" He said glaring at the paper. "Any ideas, Kegen?" _**"None, my Lord." **_Came the response. _**"I am just as mystified as you." **_Hadrian grumbled and murmured something that sounded to Kegen an awful lot like "Useless Bird" but he decided to ignore it. Then Hadrian grabbed his trunk and began wheeling it to the most likely place he could think of.

He halted about halfway between platforms nine and ten and began to look back and forth, then stopped and stared at the blank wall in front of him. He narrowed his eyes in disbelief. This couldn't be right. But then, this was magic he was dealing with. He squeezed his eyes shut and reached out toward the wall, expecting any moment to feel the rough concrete beneath his fingertips. When he felt nothing, he opened his eyes to find his had had completely passed through the wall as if it were nothing. He quickly drew back his hand in shock, and when it came out cleanly, he slowly put it back in. Then, bolstering his courage, he picked up his truck with Kegen's cage strapped to the top and walked through.

When he reached the other side, he found himself in a what appeared to be a normal train station platform, if one could ignore all the people walking around in robes. In fact, despite all the people in robes, and the fact that he had just walked through a wall, Hadrian began to wonder if he was in the right place. But the train itself answered that question for him. Or rather the writing on the train did. For near the front of bright red engine ran the words _Hogwarts Express_, so Hadrian knew he had found the right place. To be honest, he was a little disappointed. These were wizards so he was expecting a little more flair, like a floating train or something. He hadn't worn his school robes to the station, figuring that it would draw too much attention, from the normals or 'muggles' but was counting on having some time to change on the train. He had his beanie on so he wasn't too worried about attracting too much attention from the wizards and witches that crowded the station, but all the same, he hurried his way through the crowd and climbed aboard the train. Once on board, he kept his head low and slowly pushed a squeezed his way through the other passengers in the hallway, steadily making his way to the back of the train. He knew that his cover would be blown as soon as the train arrived at the school. Still, he was going to enjoy the peace and quiet while he still could. However he was keeping his head so low that he accidently ran straight into another boy. He was a few years older than Hadrian and had mousey brown hair. "Sorry, I…" Hadrian tried to say, but the boy paid him no heed and just kept walking and muttering to himself. "Perhaps if I take the invert and square the outcome of multiplying it with the cosine of…No that would never work, I'd end up with a negative. Stupid, stupid, stupid…" Hadrian watched the strange boy for a moment and then continued on his way.

Finding an empty compartment, Hadrian slipped inside, hoisted his trunk up onto the rack and then sat himself and Kegen down on the seat. Turning, he looked out the window that gave him an ample view of the platform. He had arrived early, so he still had about ten minutes before the train departed, but he didn't mind. He enjoyed the people-watching. These were people he would be going to school with, and it would be good to get to know what he would be dealing with.

His eyes almost instantly found the blond git that he had met in the clothing store during his trip to Diagon Alley. Malfoy, or something like that. And he instantly saw where the little twit got his haughtiness from. Both of his parents stood high and tall and seemed to sneer at everything that moved. At first glance, Hadrian would have thought that they were some kind of nobility, but he knew from his reading that the magical world had no such system. So he just filed them away as rich snobs who thought themselves above others merely because of their wealth.

He scanned the platform again until his eyes rested on another small family, a mother and father with two small girls. One girl looked to be no older then Hadrian himself, but the other was a few years younger and was clutching at her older sister and crying. The older one did her best to comfort her sister before her mother pried her sibling off of her and the elder one boarded the train after a round of hugs. Hadrian could see by their dress that they were wealthy but he saw no sign of the smug superiority he had seen in the Malfoys. He filed that information away as well.

However, the most interesting sight on the platform occurred not two minutes before the train was scheduled to depart and the platform was almost empty. Hadrian was about to turn away and bury himself in a book, when through the wall came an broiling tide of red hair. Hadrian couldn't help but stare. They were obviously a family, but there were so many of them. In the end, all but one of them, five in total, got on the train, leaving the parents behind with a small girl who looked almost old enough to come and Hadrian assumed was just a year too young.

When the train finally lurched forward, Hadrian sighed in relief. He took off his beanie to free his pony tail and started to read once again. He barely started his review of the charms they would be learning that year when the door opened slightly inward and a mop of red hair peaked in. "Bloody Hell!" the young boy cried, whom Hadrian now recognized as the youngest to board the train from the red-head clan. "You're the Boy-Who-Lived! Your Harry Pott…" He got no further as Hadrian's foot swiftly shot out, delivering a swift kick to the door and slamming it shut in(and if that crack Hadrian heard was any tell-tale sign, probably on as well) the boy's face. The boy tried vainly to knock and pound on the door, but Hadrian calmly held it shut with his foot and went back to reading. There was no way in hell, he was listening to THAT the whole ride there. _**"An appropriate response, My Lord." **_Kegen offered from his cage. _**"The boy barely got out nine words and feel like half of my I.Q. is gone."**_ "Well that's not so big a loss then." Hadrian responded with a faint smile. "You never had much to begin with." He ignored the death glare he was receiving and continued reading about the various appropriate ways one could use the levitation charm.

He had barely been reading for five minutes when a knock came at his door. Hadrian sighed in frustration and closed his book. "Come in." he called out. The door opened and in came the girl he had seen on the platform with her younger sister. She was towing a trunk behind her and she stopped in the door way. "Excuse me I don't mean to be a bother but could I…" Her voice faded out as her eyes made their way to his forehead. Hadrian was on the verge of slamming the door shut in her face as well when she blushed and said, "Sorry, I didn't mean to stare. Could I sit here? My other compartment mates were less then pleasant." Hadrian studied her for a sec making the girl squirm in discomfort under the penetrating gaze of his green eyes. She looked about his age and she had long black hair cascading down to her shoulder blades. He really had no need for company at the moment. But he knew it would be good to get to know people that would be in his year and at least this girl seemed to have an ounce of subtlety when it came to his identity. "If it's too much of a problem I can always…" She started to stammer out and back out the door but Hadrian cut her off and opened the door wider. "No. It's perfectly alright. Come in." The girl smiled. "Thank you. I appreciate that." Hadrian watched for a few moments as the girl struggled to pick up her trunk and try and get it up onto the rack before he sighed again, rose and wordlessly took her trunk from her and lifted it to the rack. The black-haired girl smiled and thanked him. "My name is Daphne by the way. Daphne Greengrass." "Hadrian." Hadrian said simply. "Hadrian Potter. But then, you already knew that." Daphne blushed and nodded in embarrassment. Hadrian sat back down and resumed his reading. "What are you reading?" Daphne asked. "Just the text book for Charms Class. I'm a little behind on this whole 'magic' thing. I need to catch up." Daphne blinked in surprise, but decided not to ask what he meant. Instead she changed the subject. "What house do you think you'll be in? I'm hoping for Slytherin or Ravenclaw, but really none of them are bad." Hadrian just shrugged, not lifting his eyes from his book. "I don't particularly care. As long as I go somewhere where there is peace and quiet and people just leave me to my own." Daphne smiled. "Well, that's Slytherin or Ravenclaw for you as well. I've that the other two can get…rowdy at times." Hadrian nodded his acknowledgement and went back to his book. Daphne pulled out a book as well and the conversation lulled into pleasant silence.

It was not to last however, because before long the door came crashing open and brunette came rushing in. "Daphne! Where have you been I've been looking for you everywhere?!" The brunette pulled Daphne from her seat and gave a huge bear hug which Daphne returned with barely half of the enthusiasm but, from the wide smile on her face, Hadrian could tell she was pleased to see her. "Hey Tracey." Daphne responded, pulling away from the hug, "Sorry if you weren't able to find me. I had to change compartments suddenly when…certain people came around." Tracey seemed to nod in understanding, then for the first time, noticed that there was someone else in the compartment. "Oh." She said, a little startled. "Sorry about barging in like that. I hope I didn't disturb your… OH MY GOD!", Tracey suddenly squealed. Hadrian groaned and closed his eyes. "IS THAT A RAVEN!?" Tracey swept by him and over to Kegen's cage. Both Hadrian and Daphne started in surprise. Hadrian because he was expecting Tracey to go all FanGirl on him and Daphne because she hadn't even noticed the Raven sitting in his cage in the corner. They both turned to see Tracey cooing over Kegen. "Awww, well isn't he handsome. It is a he, isn't it? I could just stroke your head all day, now couldn't I. Yes I could. Such a pretty bird." Hadrian groaned at the smug look Kegen was giving him as he basked in the attention he was receiving from the brunette. "If you keep up like that," Hadrian commented, "His head will be too big to fit in that cage. God knows he's egotistical enough." The last bit barely more than a mutter as he turned back to his book. _**"You're just jealous."**_ Kegen said, sniffing imperiously. Hadrian scoffed. "Jealousy has got nothing to do with it. You are by far the most narcissistic bird I have ever met." Kegen looked incredulous. _**"I am a Raven, My Lord. I am the deadliest hunter. The Lord of the Sky. I have a right to be a little proud." **_"Actually," interjected Hadrian, "I believe the African Crowned Eagle is the considered the fiercest bird of prey. And aren't Ravens considered carrion birds?" This seemed to shut Kegen up. By now Tracey and Daphne were looking back and forth between Hadrian and Kegen with a little confusion. "Excuse me, Hadrian?" Daphne politely interjected into the seemingly one-sided argument. "But are you…talking…to the bird?" Hadrian grumbled. "Yes. The bloody thing is my familiar so I have to deal with it in my damn head all the time." _**"You know you like it, My lord. I provide you with such wonderful insight." **_Kegen interrupted. "Like hell I do." Hadrian answered gruffly. Both of the girls seemed shocked at this. "But you're only eleven!" Daphne blurted out. Hadrian blinked slowly at the two of them. "I take it, it is abnormal for someone so young to have a familiar?" Both of the girls nodded dumbly. Hadrian just shrugged. "Somehow I doubt anything about my life will ever be normal." Tracey nodded in agreement. "His IS Harry Potter after all." She said to Daphne. Hadrian while not surprised that she had recognized him, was pleasantly startled that she was not making a big deal about it. Though he did feel the need to correct her. "Hadrian." He said simply. At her look of confusion is clarified. "My name is Hadrian and I prefer to use it since Harry has such a…stigma to it." Tracey nodded. "Of course. Hadrian." With that, he went back to reading and the girls quietly began to talk amongst themselves.

They travelled like this for some time. Hadrian content to just read and the girls content to leave him to himself. "He's not a talkative one, is he? You'd almost think he doesn't like us." Tracey had jokingly commented to Daphne during a lull in their conversation, trying to get a rise out of the quiet boy but Hadrian either didn't notice or, more likely, didn't care, because he just continued to study and the girls soon gave up and let him be.

However, his peace was doomed to be interrupted when the compartment door was abruptly thrust open once again. Hadrian silently gathered his patience before looking up and seeing yet another girl standing at his door. She had bushy brown hair, buck teeth and a bossy look on her face. "Excuse me," she said, "We are looking for Neville's toad, a squat green thing with brown spots. Have you seen it?" Hadrian peered around the girl to see a very nervous looking pudgy boy, whom Hadrian assumed was Neville, with light brown hair trying desperately to hide behind the bossy girl in front of him. Turning his attention back to girl briefly before looking straight back at his book, he said, "Afraid not. Check the luggage compartment. Toads like places that are dark and damp." But the girl's attention seemed to immediately shift when she saw he was reading. "Is that the Charms Textbook? I think I'll like charms, although transfiguration and Defense Against the Dark Arts seem fun as well. I've already read and memorized all the books. Wait, is that a raven?" Her eyes narrowed as she saw Kegen, "Ravens are not listed under 'allowed pets for first years'. You aren't allowed to bring him. It's against the rules." Hadrian blinked rapidly as he tried to follow the strange girl's line of thought. He raised a hand to halt her hurried words. "First, Kegen is my familiar, so is not technically my pet. Secondly," he quickly interjected when he saw her opening her mouth again. "Yes, I realize how unusual it is for me to have a familiar at such a young age. Nevertheless, it is true." He dryly tapped his forehead. "Strange things tend to happen to me." The bushy-haired girl gasped as she saw the scar. "You're Harry Potter! I've read so much about you. About how you…" Hadrian interrupted her with a wave of his hand. "All lies." He said, with a dismissive look. "I've read the same books. Bunch of hogwash, really. Raised by Merlin, slaying nundus in Africa, oh and my personal favorite, transforming into a dragon so I could appropriately look over England until the time came for me to come back. I love that one." Daphne and Tracey were muffling chuckles, but the bushy-haired girl looked horrified. "But…I read…" "And that," continued Hadrian, once again interrupting her, "just goes to show you that you can't believe everything you read. In truth, I was raised by my aunt and uncle. By my MUGGLE aunt and uncle. I had no idea magic existed until I was eight years old. And that was purely by accident." Now all three girls and even Neville, who was starting to come out from behind the bossy girl, were aghast at what he said. Hadrian left out that his relatives used to beat him and treat him like a slave until he had put them in their place. He figured they didn't need to know that.

"Wow." Whispered Daphne, "So all of this is so new to you. Do you even know why you're famous?" Hadrian nodded grimly. "Yes, Dumbledore explained that lovely bit to me." _**"My Lord, I don't mean to intrude, but I wish to stretch my wings. Could you let me out and open the window?"**_ Hadrian nodded and quickly did as he asked. When Kegen was gone, and he turned back, Tracey and Daphne nodded and he could see something akin to pity in their eyes. But the bossy girl's eyes lit up at the name of 'Dumbledore' and she hurriedly plopped herself down across form Hadrian and next to a very surprised Tracey and squealed, "You've met Dumbledore?!" Hadrian winced slightly at the harsh sound before commenting dryly. "Yes, yes come in. Join us, why don't you. Can we at least have your name since you seem determined to spend the remainder of the ride in our compartment?" The girl blushed heavily, "Sorry, I'm Hermione. Hermione Granger." "Hadrian Potter." Hadrian said reaching out his hand. "And these two ladies are Daphne Greengrass and Tracey…something. I didn't quite catch her name amidst the squeals and giggly laughter." "Davis" Tracey offered, blushing almost as heavily as Hermione. "It's Tracey Davis." Hadrian turned to the nervous boy who was still standing in the doorway. "You might as well come in, too." He said, sighing as all hopes of a quiet journey came to pieces around him. Neville smiled shyly and sat down. "Yes, yes," Hermione grumbled impatiently, "now back to Dumbledore!" Hadrian groaned, "Yes I met him. He brought me my letter. He introduced me the magical community. He is also the headmaster of the school we are going to, so you're going to meet him soon enough." "Dumbledore delivered your letter to you himself?" Hermione asked jealously, "A woman named McGonagall delivered my letter and she was nice and all but I wish Dumbledore had come to my house. He was in Gryffindor you know. I hope I go in Gryffindor, too. If Dumbledore was in it, it must be good. I read about his…" However she was soon interrupted again, by Hadrian waving his hand in front of her. "Look," He said, "I don't mean to be rude, but did you know you have a tendency to ramble? And right now, it's giving me a headache." Hermione blushed again and murmured an apology. "And what's all this rubbish about going into Gryffindor because Dumbledore did? Are you Dumbledore?" He asked. She looked about ready to respond, but Hadrian held up a finger. "Each house is assigned to a specific trait: Gryffindor for the brave, Hufflepuff for the loyal, Ravenclaw for the Smart and studious and Slytherin for the Cunning and ambitious. And if I'm any good at reading people, I'd say you were a Ravenclaw given your bookish nature. But it is just my opinion. Don't go for one house or the other just because someone else was great. Go where YOU will most prosper." Hermione and even Daphne and Tracey seemed to be pondering his words when, for the fourth time that day, Hadrian's door came bursting open. Hadrian groaned. Didn't anyone know how to knock in the magical world?

"You know, when I was told that Harry Potter was on this train, I never imagined it would be you." Stated Draco, as he took a step into the compartment, followed by two gorilla-like boys. One had a horrible vacant expression, like he had no mind at all, while the other was sporting a cruel smirk and a face that went with it, considering it looked like someone had smashed it repeatedly with a rock. "Saying your name was Hadrian…very clever." He continued. "It is Hadrian. Do you have business here, Malfoy?" Asked Hadrian, as he gazed at the offending blonde with extreme disinterest. "Because, if not you should know I really have no interest in receiving a pleasure call from you." The smile on Malfoy's face faded slightly but he reached out his hand. "I come to offer my hand in friendship, Potter. As you know, I'm Draco Malfoy, and these are Crabbe, " he said gesturing to no-brain, and "and Goyle." Gesturing to smashed-face. Hadrian gave and fake smile and gestured around the compartment. "But I have friends, Malfoy, why would I need you, especially considering I don't really believe you know what the word 'friend' means." Oddly enough, Draco's smile brightened. "But you see, Potter, soon you will realize that some wizards are better than others. And while your company isn't _entirely_ unpleasant," his eyes flitted to Daphne as he said this, "You would be better off losing the mudblood, halfblood, and squib. They are beneath people such as you and I." At this, Hadrian's temper flared. Malfoy really did remind him of Vernon. "You know, Malfoy, your right." Said, rising, causing the other occupants of the room to start in surprise. "Some wizards are better than others, so let me make something _perfectly_ clear. I am better then you." With each step of the last sentence he took a step toward Draco and the room got visibly darker. Shadows seemed to creep out from under the seats and from the corners of the room. But Hadrian took no notice to them, his green-eyed gaze focused solely on Malfoy. "Now I'm going to have to ask you to leave, before I really lose my temper." Malfoy sneered. "You wouldn't dare…" But it was at that moment that Kegen decided to return. Swooping in the window of the moving train and landing deftly on Hadrian's shoulder, he gave a warning caw at Draco and ruffled his feather's dangerously. And all it took was that brief moment of distraction and before he knew it, Draco had a wand pointed straight at his face. "You know," Hadrian said, "Because of that pesky Trace, I haven't had the chance to actually try any of the spells I've studied. But we're on the Hogwarts train now. So please, Malfoy, for the love of God, give me a reason to try one now. I'd like nothing better." Malfoy didn't know why he backed down. Maybe it was the strange wand. Maybe it was pitch black raven on Hadrian's shoulder. But more than likely, it was the murderous glint in Hadrian's eyes that told him that Hadrian actually _would _enjoy, thoroughly, any harm he could cause on Draco's person. And so Malfoy backed off. But not without a sneer. "This isn't over, Potter. One day, you will rue the day you spurned the hand of Draco Malfoy." "Not bloody likely." Hadrian murmured as the door closed.

Silence reigned in the compartment as Hadrian sat back down and returned Kegen to his cage. The other four occupants of the room looked at him with a mixture of fear and respect. "Well you certainly put him in his place." Muttered Tracey, after a long moment, getting a short laugh out of everyone. "Remind me Hadrian," Daphne seconded with a small smile, "Never to get on the wrong side of you." They all chuckled in agreement. "Did you mean it back there, Hadrian," asked Hermione suddenly, with a nervous look, "When you said that we were your friends?" Hadrian grumbled and opened his book again. "Don't let it go to your head. I meant acquaintances, really." Thankfully, the rest of the trip went uneventfully.

When the five minute alarm sounded, Hermione, Neville and Tracey had to scurry off to where they left their trunks so that they could change. Daphne merely changed in the compartment while Hadrian changed outside. Soon enough, the train was screeching to a halt, and all of the students were filing out onto the platform. Over all of the bustle, a loud booming voice could be heard. "Firs' Years! Firs' Years! Over 'ere to me!" Hadrian made his way toward the voice with his companions to find a huge man, standing at least seven feet tall and sporting a long scraggly brown beard that looked like it might be a nest for a few small birds. "Are you all 'ere?" The giant asked. After doing a quick count he gave a big toothy grin. "Alright. I'm 'Agrid. I'm the groundskeeper at 'Ogwarts. If you'll folla me, please." He led them down a small path till they got to the edge of a lake and saw dozens of small boats. "Alright you lot. Get in. Only four 'o a boat, please." Hadrian got into a boat with Daphne, Tracey and Hermione, Neville having left knowing some other boys in another boat, and before long they set off. At first, Hadrian thought the whole thing was ridiculous. The boats were slower than the carriages and he didn't see the need. That is, he didn't see the need until the Castle of Hogwarts rose from behind a hill and he could see it in all its glory. Even Hadrian had to admit, with all the lights flaring and its reflection in the lake, the sight was spectacular. When the beached, Hagrid led them up to the front gate, then turned around. "Before we go in, real quick, I have a toad here. 'Oes he belong to anyone?" He asked, holding up said toad. "Trevor!" Yelled Neville from somewhere in the crowd. Hagrid smiled and handed him the toad before turning and knocking loudly three times on the front gate.

**AN: Alright, there you are everyone. Again, apologies that this took so long to get out to you. Hopefully it won't happen again. If you all want me to start releasing shorter chapters so I can get them out more often, just say so, and I'll see what I can do. I hoped you all enjoyed. Please follow/favorite and review and I hope to see you all soon.**

**Lord Sweater, Out.**


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